


What goes unseen

by xofstardust



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Faery AU, M/M, Multi, Superstition AU, folklore AU, mythical AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 03:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12762420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xofstardust/pseuds/xofstardust
Summary: ‘They’re everywhere, Takashi.’His grandfather had promised, a warm smile on his lips, as though he were sharing something precious.‘No matter where you go, they’re there, but don’t worry. They’re not all bad.’---He remembered those eyes from almost fifteen years ago, ones that belonged to a youthful and pale face, and that wasexactlythe problem.Neither hadn’t changed in the slightest.





	What goes unseen

He remembered those eyes— Dark blues that appeared violet in the right light — expressive where words failed to elaborate; Framed with dark lashes that diminished none of their wide-eyed gaze, the ever present critical edge, as if they were silently calculating their next action (and yet the actions to follow suit were more  _ spontaneous _ and done on a whim, more than anything). Shiro could pinpoint the exact moment in his life he had first encountered that look, the familiarity of it sending him reeling.

 

He remembered those eyes; He remembered those eyes from almost fifteen years ago, ones that belonged to a youthful and pale face, and that was  _ exactly _ the problem.

 

Neither hadn’t changed in the slightest.

* * *

Shiro had never believed in fairytales. Growing up, his grandfather had weaved intricate tales of spirits and demons, ones that prowled the streets during odd hours of the late night and early mornings. They had been entertaining as a child, the fantastical stories that made their world just a little bit more magical, but they were nothing more than just that:  _ Stories _ . 

_ ‘They’re everywhere, Takashi.’ _ His grandfather had promised, a warm smile on his lips, as though he were sharing something precious.  _ ‘No matter where you go, they’re there, but don’t worry. They’re not all bad.’ _

It was a strange statement, seeing as how many precautions Shiro was made to take out of paranoia.

He had been told to stay away from the river just behind the house, and so he did. He had been told to avoid the garden patches if he had ever heard a strange noise, and so he did. He had been told to keep his head down when walking seemingly alone, and so he did— These were all due to superstitions his grandfather had believed, and each visit had left Shiro feeling more and more ridiculous as he grew. Still, he never questioned the old man’s logic, because Grandpa Jiji (it wasn’t until he was older that he had realized he had been calling his grandfather  _ ‘grandpa grandpa’ _ ) was fun and loving and his summers on the island had been the best memories he had made whilst growing up.

Back home in America, such superstitions were entirely forgotten until his return to Grandpa Jiji, or the moment something turned up that reminded his father of the stories he was told when he himself had been Shiro’s age. It was a fond memory to be brought up every time, his mother and father sharing a moment’s laughter as they recalled some outrageous story his grandfather had told.

Life back home was normal, and the constant travel back and forth between normalcy and abnormalcy had always kept Shiro’s life plenty eventful.

That is, until the week of his tenth birthday arrived.

Grandpa Jiji had never been of poor health. In fact, Shiro recalled the man to be rather strong for his age, carrying the boy effortlessly around his shoulders, as well as any fishing supplies they brought along for their trips. The man was in great shape, he had to be, to support his field of crops, to care for an energetic and growing boy who became heavier and heavier with each passing summer— The illness had been sudden.

Doctors didn’t know what to do.

_ ‘Takashi, please, Jiji needs his rest right now.’ _ His mother had gently told him, urging him out the back door.  _ ‘Go play outside for a while. I will call you when he wakes, okay?’ _

He had complied easily enough, leaving the solemn home in favor of the chilly outdoors. Bundled in various layers of coats and sweaters, a warm red scarf shielding half his face from the cold, Shiro had disregarded all warnings his grandfather had laid out for him in that single day. What Grandpa Jiji didn’t know, couldn’t hurt him, right? He was too tired, too sick to say otherwise.

What Grandpa Jiji never told him was that there was another little boy who lived on the other side of the river.

It had struck Shiro as a strange absence of information, seeing the dark-haired child crouched just on the edge of the riverbank, terribly underdressed for the season, poking and prodding at the water’s surface with a branch. Social by nature, it was only natural to strike up a conversation.

The boy’s eyes were a strange color, dark, with the barest hints of blue in them. It was almost like looking into the deepest parts of the ocean where no light could reach.

It unsettled him.

_ ‘Want to play?’ _ They had spoken to him, the words in the island’s native tongue, but Shiro had known enough to understand him (though he could hardly speak it).  _ ‘Come on, then! This way!’ _

The boy beckoned to him, hand outstretched, pale lips curled into an inviting smile. It had taken him a moment to realize that the boy wanted him to cross the river. Though shallow enough to tread across, should he be careful enough, it was far too cold to cross. Surely the other was joking, right?

_ ‘Come on! It’s okay! Let’s play!’ _ The boy enticed, voice heavy with glee, laughter laced betwixt childish words.  _ ‘Here, watch!’  _ It had been an awe inspiring display, the boy wading into the river as though it were but another warm summer’s day. He looked undisturbed, in fact, he was pleased by the water’s temperature, going as far as to give a little splash in delight.  _ ‘Now you!’ _ He encouraged.

Shiro, though fascinated, was hesitant.  _ ‘It’s cold.’ _ He stated tentatively, mitted hands clutching at the scarf around his face, further muffling his words.

The boy shook his head, eagerly gesturing for him to come near. He had insisted, proceeding to dive beneath the waters only to resurface just a bit closer. Closer, and closer, until—

It was difficult to recall how it had happened exactly, but the next thing he knew, he had been submerged in ice cold water with nothing but that delighted look on the boy’s face in sight. Shiro had screamed, though nothing but bubbles of what precious little oxygen he had left escaped him. He thrashed, tried to grab what he could as purchase, but thick winter mitts hardly allowed room to properly enclose his fingers around anything solid. His scarf felt like a noose, thick and suffocating, pulling tighter around his neck to further aid the water’s task in drowning him.

And those eyes were on him the entire time, dark, like the bottomless ocean.    
Waiting.  
Watching.  
Entertained.

And suddenly they were gone, yanked out of his field of vision, hands which had held him down vanishing along with his presence. Despite the absence of force, Shiro was far too drenched, far too tired and frozen to move. He was terrified, and if he could, he knew he would be sobbing fat, wet tears.

But hands were on him again, though this time, they had pulled him  _ out _ of the water’s clutches. They peeled the scarf from his face, unzipped his jacket just slightly and brushed a wet fringe from his face. Shiro gasped for air, coughing roughly in between, cries escaping him as he flailed weakly all the while, refusing to open his eyes in fear he may see that dark void staring back him.

_ ‘Hey, it’s alright. I got ya, kid.’ _ Came another voice entirely, warm breath tickling his skin as he was cradled close.

_ Warm… Safe… _

With a strained breath, he peered up to meet those eyes— Dark blues that appeared violet in the right light— warm and expressive. Still, Shiro cried, breath labored in between the action, his lungs expanding and contracting painfully within his chest.

He was terrified.

_ ‘They’re not gonna hurt you anymore, okay?’ _ The stranger had reassured as he pressed the back of his hand to Shiro’s flushed cheek. There was concern, a brief flicker crossing his gaze, but there was nothing more to be said. Shiro was too tired to ask questions, too tired to doubt the stranger’s words. The next moments were a blur, the sequences jumping from one to another in a strange disconnection of time. He remembered questions ( _ ‘Where do you live?’ ‘Are your parents close?’ ‘What’s your name?’ _ ), they had kept him awake all the while, responses mumbled and clumsy, but they seemed to satisfy the young man.

He remembered his parents, worried and panicked, his mother enveloping him into her arms, sopping wet clothes slapping the hardwood just out of his sight before he finally dozed off.

Between feverish dreams he recalled the voices down the hall: His mother, his father, and even his grandfather’s, though he had sounded weak and brittle in comparison. A fourth had murmured alongside them, quiet in tone, almost conspiratorial in a way, as though they were sharing in a secret that no one else could know. Shiro’s head was heavy, and still he shivered as though exposed to winter’s harsh weather, and yet he had managed to escape his bed regardless, drawn to the whispers.

There had been a gasp, more concerned voices directed his way, but consciousness refused to provide the details of his travels. He could only remember finding his way into familiar reassuring arms, a gentle pat rhythmically pressing against his hair, and the faint rumble of a voice beneath a chest against his ear as a name was spoken in reply.

_ ‘Keith… My name is Keith.’ _

* * *

The intersection was busy, traffic being it’s noisy usual self as he stood in wait for the light of the crosswalk to signal  _ go _ , but the moment a red hand turned into a walking stickfigure of a person, Shiro had caught sight of those familiar eyes. Frozen on the spot, he could only watch helplessly as the memory returned to him, replaying in his mind like some horror story come to life. He was only lucky his didn’t have a  _ tragic _ end.

It still made little sense, though.

This young man—  _ Keith— _ didn’t look a day older than when he first saw him. He could barely pass for an adult, Shiro felt, and briefly did he consider he had remembered the wrong face in his memories. Then dark eyes rose to lock onto his own, a flash of familiar well-worn red being exposed behind the high collar of his jacket, and suddenly Shiro knew he couldn’t have been mistaken.

“Shiro?... Shiro, are you alright?” They weren’t spoken by the one he knew as Keith, but instead, by his co-worker, Allura. It wasn’t until Keith had rose a brow at him in passing, as though thoroughly creeped by a stranger’s stare, that Shiro had managed to tear his gaze away, sputtering stupidly for a moment as all manner of speech eluded him.

“I… Y-yeah, I’m… I’m okay, I just… Thought I recognized someone…” He trailed off, shooting a gaze back towards the other’s retreating back, but Keith had already vanished amongst the rush hour crowd of the city’s hustle and bustle.

At his side, Allura seemed to consider his words silently, following his line of sight in search of the mysterious stranger for a moment before gently touching his arm and guiding him away. It was already late, and no doubt would the trains be packed—  _ ‘With the unsavory sort’, _ in Allura’s words— if they caught it any later. She always made sure to get them both home at a decent hour.

“Well, if you  _ thought _ , then it means you aren’t  _ certain _ . Unless you’re absolutely sure, be mindful and keep up the pace, unless you’re willing to  _ carry _ me on the train when there are no open seats?” Her words elicited a small bit of laughter from him, knowing full well how she was exaggerating with her statement.

It was distracting banter by just enough to get him to their destination, his mind finally wandering once more as they took their seats.  


Grandpa Jiji’s words rang in his ears.  _ ‘They’re everywhere, Takashi. No matter where you go, they’re there.’  _

His attention drifted down towards the bay as the train’s track crossed over the bridge, spotting a lone figure standing by the water’s edge. Behind them laid a discarded coat, and before he knew it, the person had submerged themselves into icy waters, looking far too pleased to be considered natural. 

_ ‘But don’t worry.’  _

A chill ran up his spine as he averted his gaze, memories flashing across his mind once again as he settled his attention elsewhere, this time, from within the cabin. A young woman who stood in the corner locked eyes with him, and briefly did he feel… _something_ , tug at him from inside—

“Hey, what do you think about a group dinner tomorrow night?” Allura’s voice suddenly intervened, leaning forward in her chair and effectively breaking his line of sight. She seemed to be staring at him intently, and it took Shiro a moment to realize she had been intentional in her actions.

_ ‘They’re not all bad.’ _

Shiro gave her a smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but silently thankful.

“Yeah.” He breathed, lowering his gaze to avoid catching anyone else’s. “Sounds good.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Come visit me on [tumblr](https://xofstardust.tumblr.com/) and say hi!
> 
> To answer any questions that may have risen: No, Keith didn't recognize Shiro when he saw him, and that's why he gave him a weird look haha~ Yes, Keith did keep Shiro's old red scarf, and that's what was poking out from beneath his jacket's collar. Yes, Allura is also a fae/demon/mythological/immortal person-thing pfft. I have no idea what to call them, but yes, she's of that nature and is 110% aware of the others around them.
> 
> I loosely based the kid who almost drowned Shiro off of the Japanese myth of the Kappa! c':
> 
>  
> 
> UPDATE: **I have decided that I will be continuing this, but it will be a slow process! I want to make this the best that it can be-- thank you all for your support!**


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